Divine Retribution
by elystia
Summary: In which Link receives an unfortunate hairstyle change.


**A/N:** So according to my personal Link!headcanon, he is vain as hell about his hair. (I mean, just _look_ at it.) Naturally I must pick on him for this. Also, according to wiki, commercially-distributed shampoos weren't available until the early 1900s. (Yes, I did actually research Victorian-era shampoo to write DGM fic. sob my life) So this might not be _entirely_ historically accurate, but I don't think late 19th century England had Golems or Arks either, so let's just let that slide.

And I'm assuming HQ has communal bathrooms of sorts. idk Hoshino chooses not to share these very important details with us for some reason.

* * *

><p>It wasn't that Allen disliked Link. Quite the opposite, actually. If he overlooked the fact that Link's job was to <em>investigate him for heresy<em>, he'd even venture to say that they got along quite well. That said, there were times when Allen would rather spend an entire afternoon with his Master than be in the same room with the Inspector, and this was one of those times.

Link stood in front of their bureau mirror, glaring at his reflection and positively trembling with suppressed rage. It suddenly occurred to Allen that Link had extensive combat training and powerful spell-casting abilities. He filed this information away accordingly.

"Link," he said in what he hoped was a placating tone. "I'm sure it will wash out."

Link offered no response except for a slight twitch of his right hand. This struck Allen as particularly worrying.

"It—look, let me see the bottle," Allen leaned over and tugged the shampoo bottle from Link's other hand, which he had been been clutching it so tightly that Allen feared there would be a small explosion. Uncapping it and peering inside revealed that the normally beige substance had become extremely...purple. Which, going by the state of Link's formerly golden-blond hair, explained a lot.

Allen decided that suppressing his laughter in that moment was _absolutely essential_ to his survival.

"Walker," Link murmured, filled with the kind of murderous intent that Allen normally only saw from Kanda, "there is something I must attend to. As I am under orders to accompany you at all times, I am requesting that you join me but do not, under any circumstances, interfere."

Allen loved all of humanity with a love that extended even to the wretched souls bound to Akuma. He had taken a solemn vow to protect them, no matter the cost.

But whoever this poor bastard was, they were on their own.

* * *

><p>The walk to the library was certainly one that Allen would never forget. He watched scientists and exorcists alike gawk openly before immediately diving for cover as Link continued his one-man war charge, not sparing the passerby so much as a contemptuous glare.<p>

Word traveled fast throughout HQ, so the rampaging Inspector's arrival in the library was not at all unanticipated. And unfortunately for the guilty party, his presence was made immediately obvious to Link by the several-meter wide gap that formed around him.

In retrospect, of course it was Timothy. No one else in HQ was that childish. Or suicidal.

Link approached Timothy's table with all the dignity of a Vatican Inspector whose hair had just been turned bright purple and pulled Emilia aside for a brief, whispered conversation. Timothy observed all of this with wide, trepidatious eyes. Allen could only assume, from his safe position several yards away, that Timothy had not actually meant to capture _Link_ with his prank. Most unfortunate.

After Link and Emilia seemed to reach some kind of consensus, Link resumed Emilia's former place across from Timothy, textbook in hand. Timothy continued to stare, horrified. He sent a pleading look in Emilia's direction only to receive a "glad I'm not you" look in response.

What ensued was the kind of educating that would have made Cross Marian proud.

* * *

><p>"Don't you think that was maybe a little harsh?"<p>

By the time they had both retired to their room, Link's fury had calmed to a simmering sullenness that, thankfully, did not promise immediate bodily harm. Allen laid sprawled on his bed, Timcanpy curled up near his right ear, while Link resumed his brooding vigil in front of the mirror. Allen had to wonder if he was mourning or pouting. It was hard to tell with Link.

"It was that or report him to Secretary Lvellie for assault against a Vatican Inspector," Link replied, eyes never leaving his reflection. Based on Allen's experiences with the Secretary, he had to agree that Link was indeed a merciful avenger.

But that didn't change the fact that Link was still pouting.

"You know, Link, it...it really doesn't look _that_ bad," Allen tried.

"It is _bright purple_, Walker," Link returned immediately. "How can I expect anyone to take me seriously as a professional when my hair is such an inappropriate color?"

"Kanda seems to get by just fi-" Link shot the exorcist a look that cut him off mid-sentence. Allen resumed staring at the ceiling and the two fell into a tense silence.

"It's sort of regal and...stuff," Allen murmured after a while.

"Regal," Link repeated flatly.

"Yeah, I mean, it's definitely...unusual. But you spend all your time with exorcists. We're not exactly the definition of typical." He waved his left arm for emphasis.

It was silent for another long moment before Link huffed out a breath that he would later insist was not in any way a _huff_ and finally tore himself away from the mirror. "Your argument is not particularly comforting, Walker, but I appreciate the effort." Link stood from the bureau after shooting one last sulky glance at his reflection, carrying the oil lamp with him. Allen watched his progress as he prepared to put it out, the light flickering on his newly-purple hair. It really _didn't_ look that bad, in Allen's opinion.

Link glanced over briefly before settling on his own bed. "And I am afraid I will have to inform Kanda Yuu that you have _opinions_ about his hair color."

Allen could only grin as Link doused the lamp.


End file.
